Sweet Nothings

by James Babbs

the bottle talks to me
when I walk past it
sitting there on the table
it asks me
what are you waiting for
and I reach out
brushing the label
lightly with my hand
before tracing the edges of it
with my finger
I pull cans of Coke from the fridge
pour some into my glass
lifting up the bottle
and I stand there
holding it in my hands
before mixing some of it in
then stirring it
slowly with a straw
and the bottle talks to me
it tells me
this is something good
and every time I touch it
I hear it whispering
yes
yes
yes
later in the evening
when I’m moving around the room
when the room starts moving around me
I hear the bottle laughing
and in the small hours of morning
when I start to fall asleep
the heavy taste of it
lingering on my tongue